Normalcy
by Purple Shamrock 17
Summary: Oneshot. Complete. All Dom Cobb wanted was to see his children's faces. After that, all he wanted was to be absolutely...normal. Takes place on the night of Cobb's return.


**Author's Note: Hello, fellow "Inception" fans! This fic is in the universe of the ending being in reality…because I refuse to believe that it wasn't. :) After all that he went through, Dom deserved to be with his kids. **

**And since there are so few fics out there that deal with Dom's relationship/interaction with his kids, this is my contribution. I hope you like it, since it's my first fic in this category and please review! I really want to know what you think!**

**Special thanks to acciodanrad9 for being an awesome beta! **

Normalcy

The moment I get home and go into the backyard, my children are in my arms. It's the moment I've been waiting for, and I don't want it to end. It's they who want it to end and soon begin squirming to break free. This is probably because I'm nearly squeezing and kissing them to death in my arms. I set them reluctantly down on the ground and immediately crouch down to their level.

But before I can say anything, Phillipa speaks up. "Is Mommy coming back now, Daddy?"

I run my fingers through her blonde hair, the same shade as mine was at her age. "No, sweetheart, Mommy's not coming back."

"Why not?"

"Because Mommy went to a place where she won't be able to come back."

"Can we visit her like we visit Grandma and Grandpa?"

"No, honey," I tell her with a heavy sigh. I really don't want to be talking about her mother, or even think about her right now but I know that it's only natural for her to ask. Now that her father is back in her life why can't her mother be too?

I know the reason: me.

I'm the one who learned to enter people's dreams. I'm the one who taught it to Mal whereupon she eventually lost her grip on reality and caused her…

I shake my head quickly. I can't keep thinking about her. I have to think of my children now and be the father that they've been missing for so long.

Quickly, I kiss both of them on the forehead and promise, "I'll tell you why Mommy can't come back when you're older, okay?"

Phillipa sighs heavily, having heard the phrase, "I'll tell you when you're older" for most of her short life. James, not even two yet, couldn't care less and soon wanders off to play. After a few seconds, his sister follows reluctantly behind.

When they are occupied, I notice my father, Miles approach. During my talk with the kids, I caught him lingering a few feet away. Now, he seems intent on having my full attention.

"You're going to have to tell them eventually, Dom," he says without preamble.

"I know."

"They deserve to know."

"I'll explain everything to them when I think the time's right," I say. "Since _I'm_ their father." I add firmly.

"You have a funny way of showing it," he replies coolly.

I clench my teeth in anger. Am I such a bad father for wanting to make a reasonable living? Yes, it is (or was) illegal but it is (or rather, was) a living and a well paying one. Yet with this final job, I don't care about the money anymore. Going home and seeing my beautiful children is enough.

Now all I want is normalcy.

* * *

After asking how the Saito job went (which I give a very brief outline of), my dad leaves and I spend the rest of the afternoon playing with my kids. It's the best afternoon that I can remember.

It feels like a dream.

But I know it isn't, because when the kids and I troop back into the house to start dinner, I find my totem on the kitchen table, lying still and silent. As I stare, I realize how much I didn't care to wait and see if it stopped or not. I just wanted to see my son and daughter's faces again.

But of course, I'm glad that it is, really and truly a reality.

"What's for dinner, Daddy?" James asks, breaking my silent contemplation of the top.

"I dunno, let's look," I say, moving off to search the cupboards where I'm grateful to find that they are stocked full, thanks to my parents.

After a few minutes, I say, "Mac and cheese sound good?"

"Yeah!" they yell behind me.

"Okay, then."

They scamper off to play while I start cooking. It's so simple and so normal that I can hardly believe someone like me, the great dream extractor, is actually doing it.

I love every minute of it.

Just as I'm heating up some frozen vegetables, the doorbell rings. Praying that it isn't my father back for more criticism of my parenting skills compared to my extracting ones, I go to the door and open it. There, I find the one person that I'm least expecting to see on my doorstep.

Ariadne.

"Hi, Cobb," she says, somewhat nervously.

"Hey, Ari," I reply.

A smile flickers on her lips at the nickname. "I'm, um I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"Me and the kids were about to have dinner," I say.

Before Ariadne can reply, Phillipa calls from behind me. "Daddy, who is it?" I hear the pattering of her feet across the floor before she comes up beside me and asks incredulously at Ariadne, "Who are _you_?"

"Phillipa, this is Ariadne," I tell her. "She's a friend of mine."

"That's a funny name," says Phillipa bluntly.

Ariadne laughs softly. "Thank you, I happen to like it."

"Are you having mac and cheese with us?"

"Oh, no," Ariadne says quickly. "I—I just dropped to see how your daddy was."

I smirk. "How am _I _doing? How are_ you_ doing, Ariadne?"

"Yeah, well, I—"

I raise a hand then, effectively cutting her off. "Come in and have some dinner, I'm not gonna have one of the best members of my team just stand out on my stoop."

She hesitates but then says, "Okay."

* * *

"How's the mac and cheese, guys?" I ask a few minutes later when we're all (including Ariadne) sitting around the table.

"Yummy!" yells Phillipa instantly. James doesn't say anything since he's too busy playing with his spoon. Most of his mac and cheese has ended up on his face.

"You're a good cook, Cobb," remarks Ariadne, "especially since it all came from a box."

"Thank you," I reply. I'm still not sure how I feel about inviting her in for dinner. I was hoping just to have a quiet meal with my kids but then again, it is nice to see her especially after all we've been through.

As if sensing my thoughts, she says, "I really hope I'm not intruding. I mean, this is your first meal with your kids and—"

"It's okay," I assure her. "Trust me, if not for you, this one—" I pause to point at Phillipa, "can talk your ear off when she gets goin'."

Philippa promptly makes a face at me which causes Ariadne to laugh. When it subsides, she says seriously. "The reason I came by, Cobb was 'cause I really did want to make sure you were okay. I mean, what with going into Limbo like that and before, with all of my stupid questions and seeing…what you did."

She stops then and looks down at her food. During the pause, I quickly glance at my kids to see if they have caught on to anything that we've said. Thankfully they are too busy with their food to listen, so I turn back to Ariadne as she says softly, "I'm sorry I put you through all of it—I mean, with Mal and everything-again, Cobb."

"Don't worry, Ari," I say, gently. "I'm fine now. I'm back with my kids and that's why I did everything that I did. For them."

She nods in understanding and I realize the truth behind my words. During the Fischer inception, James and Philippa were always in the back of my mind. Even when my master plan seemed to be falling apart, I knew I had to make it right if I wanted to get back to them.

Because I'm all they have in this world. The _real_ world.

And they're all I could ever want.

At that moment, I'm aware of how quiet it has gotten and I quickly force myself back to the present where Ariadne and the kids are finishing their dinner.

"Are you flying back to Paris tonight?" I ask Ariadne, wanting to break the pressing silence.

She smiles and shakes her head. "After that flight from Sydney that we had? Heck, no."

I raise my eyebrows in alarm. "Do you have a place to stay, Ari?"

"Oh, yeah," she says quickly. "Arthur set me up at his place."

"Really?" I say with a smirk.

A blush instantly blooms on her face. "It doesn't mean anything, Cobb! He's just being nice."

"Uh-huh, sure…"

She just rolls her eyes at this.

When dinner is over, Ariadne announces that she should be going and I walk her to the door. There, she says, "Thank you for dinner, your kids are great."

"You're welcome," I say, "and thanks. They're pretty good most of the time."

"And thanks for the job too. It was…fun, to say the least." She smiles jokingly.

"Oh, yeah," I say, sarcastically and then think to myself, _But it did get me to the place that I've wanted to be all along._

"Anyway," Ariadne continues, "if you're ever in Paris sometime, look me up."

"I will," I say, although I know for a fact that going to Paris is the last thing on my mind right now. Still, I appreciate the offer.

"Well, thanks again, Cobb. Good night."

" 'Night, Ari."

* * *

"Can Ari come back for dinner again?" Phillipa asks later that night as I'm helping her get ready for bed.

"I dunno, honey, she lives all the way across the ocean in France," I tell her.

"Like where Mommy's from?"

My heart pangs at her question. "Yup, like where Mommy's from."

"We should go see her!" cries Phillipa as she leaps into bed.

I smile. "Maybe someday, we will."

Then, as I kiss her goodnight, she wraps her little arms around my neck and whispers, "Love you, Daddy."

"I love you too, sweetheart," I say, hugging her back tightly.

* * *

After I say goodnight to James, I make my way, with my heart in my stomach to the room that Mal and I used to share.

I don't even look at her side of the bed when I enter. Instead, I quickly dive under the covers. I know I can't dream of her anymore, any projection of her will never really be like the woman I married. It's the reminders of her in reality that I know will haunt me.

After some tossing and turning, I'm just about to fall asleep when I hear my bedroom door creak open. Quickly, I sit up in bed and turn on my bedside lamp. The light springs into the room, illuminating my daughter and son standing in the doorway.

"I can't sleep," Phillipa says, "and he followed me." She adds, pointing at her brother.

"It's okay, guys, c'mon up here," I say, patting the mattress.

When they are sitting beside me, I notice that Phillipa is holding a book. As if hearing my unspoken question, James says, "Grandma read to us every night."

"Then, I will too," I say, taking the book from Phillipa's grasp.

When I flip it over, I see that it's called _The BFG_ by Roald Dahl, the same guy who wrote that creepy _Charlie and the Chocolate Factory_.

"Phillipa," I say, glancing over the book at her, "isn't this a big girl book?"

"I _am_ a big girl, Daddy!" she cries instantly. "Grandma read us tons and tons of books like this."

"Tons and tons," repeats James, nodding in agreement.

"Okay, if you guys want me to read it then I will," I say, as I open the book to the first chapter.

As I begin reading, I realize instantly why my mother might have suggested to the kids to ask me to read them this book.

It's about dreams.

And not just _any_ dreams, it's about (in a very childlike way) inception and I can't help but think that my mother is using this book as a way to get them to ask me about my job.

But when I'm halfway through the first chapter, I glance up and see that they are listening with rapt attention. Their eyes are glazed over as they imagine the pages coming to life. They don't want to ask questions, they just want to listen to their father read them a bedtime story.

So I read on.

I'm almost to chapter three when I glance up again and see that they have fallen asleep, using each other as a pillow. Smiling, I close the book and place it on my nightstand. Then, far from wanting to return them to their rooms, I pull the covers over them and then get in beside them.

With one arm draped protectively across them, I think about the story that I've just read. Yes, in a whimsical way, it is about dreams and inception but other than that it's just a story. Just a simple, children's story from one man's imagination.

But what I've got lying next to me is reality. My children. My children, whose greatest joy is having their father back and hearing me read a bedtime story to them. That's their reality.

That's my normalcy.

And it's all I've ever wanted.

**Author's Note: **_**The BFG**_** (Big Friendly Giant) really is about a form of inception, I'm seriously not kidding. I have no idea how I thought of it either, since I haven't read that book in years but the connection just popped into my head one day and this fic is the result of that. I hope you liked it! Please review! **


End file.
